Legend of Zelda: Ancient Shards
by sisternyxalia13
Summary: Ganondorf, King of the Gerudo and vessel for the demon king is spreading his iron reign across the land of Hyrule at an alarming rate. Princess Zelda has found who she believes to be the hero. And the princess of wisdom and the hero of courage must discover a way to end the cycle of destruction, before Hyrule is swallowed by the avarice of one man.
1. The Princess' Worries

1

Rain falls outside the windows of the great, elongated hall. It echoes off the old roof and beats on windows. The storm outside swells, thunder crashing against clouds and lightning streaking across the sky. Faint firelight glow illuminates the dark room, casting long reliefs and shadows. Guards close the doors behind him, shutting out a cold wind that blows through the air, and the damp that threatens to seep into the very palace walls. They are uneasy- there is war at their very gates, an army of monsters. The people of Hyrule Castle Town- the town just outside the palace's boundaries- are hidden, holed up in their homes' cellars, inside temples or underground, where the sewers of the very city run. They had seen the march of demons across the field, across a land that was once again threatened by the call of a man with evil eyes.

Scouts estimate that the army is at most a day's march away.

At most.

At least- half a day, maybe less. That is, if they are moving fast.

The soldiers have already barred the town with it's frightened folk, taking up hold in towers and homes along the walls. The boy in green had passed through their makeshift barricade. Carts and wagons all lined up in a row to keep the monsters out, for now, barricades that were, as they stood, being strengthened by the minute, with forces that meant to keep the line here. How could they have not seen it before?

Villages closer to the desert lands had reported activity, soldiers who raised the alarm. And still, they were not prepared. Why was it so?

All their defenses, all the effort put into troops sent to outlying villages before they were sacked and burnt to the ground-all of them crumbled. But why? Why did their trained forces buckle so easily? Was it Him?

Was it that He had finally grown too strong for their forces alone to hold back?  
They were only men.

Yes. They were only men.

And that is why she had sent for this boy, this boy clad in green.

She is dressed plainly- Princess Zelda had always dressed this way, wearing common clothes out of insistence. After all, when you mingle among your people, you have a better sense of how to govern them. How to take care of them.

And at this age, she knew that she had to hide them, defend them to her best capability… but her troops were simply not enough.

Hylians are a peaceful people.

They do not like to take up sword or spear, they do not like to harm another life unless by necessity. But this is an army of monsters, not an army of men. Even their leader is a great beast- a pig of a beast.

The boy standing in front of her grace Zelda was the same, eager to prove himself, but hesitant to take up the blade.

And yet, here he was.

Blond with a bewildered expression, grasping blade in one hand [tattered and beaten, clearly a hand-me-down from whatever village he had come…] and a beaten shield in the other. And yet those clothes, the cap, that face that was full of innocent determination all the same. She spoke little, but spoke up still when he appeared. "Your name… it is Link, correct?"  
He nodded.

From what she understood from the guards, when they'd escorted him from the gates of Castle Town to her palace hall, he was from an outlying village in the forest, somewhere near Ordon. He didn't say where he was from specifically, but he came equipped with only those two things, and a fiddle.

She takes a breath, clasping those hands together, white gloves to match a white dress, one that reaches to her ankles. "Do you know the legends?"

The last hero they knew of, the last one to hold the Master sword in his hands, was from Ordon, and he was named Link.

At least, this is what the royal family knows. Many outside of the family, they are not completely aware. They have heard stories of Heroes. Stories of boys in green with bright, fierce eyes that blazed with courage. Stories where they destroy the evils that plague the living and light of Hyrule itself- they know even less about the heroes that drove evils from other worlds… and some scholars speculate that there could be more.

Of course, there were debates even about some of those heroes- The Hero of Time as one, The Hero of Minish as another. There were even oracles that had said that there were heroes yet untold, that belonged to other times, other eras, places that Hyrule had not been, had not seen, and yet…

Those stories were kept, archived deep in the palace library, far from prying eyes, and in the hearts and on the tongues of the sheikah guardians, who were keeps in their own right.

There is historical fact to back some of these up- In the Era of the Mythical Hero of Time, there was a grand war between Hyrule and the Gerudo people, their king, Ganondorf, arrested for treason. He sought to overthrow the kingdom of Hyrule after he had sworn fealty to the old king [then Gustaf Nohansen II]... A plot that was foiled by a boy in green, who claimed to know the whereabouts of the triforce of legend. It is unknown to time how the boy had proven himself a true hero, but speculation about the long-ago boy and his life are...difficult to prove.

Scholars have forever searched for a grave or a birthplace. They have found neither.

But those in the royal family, those that come from Noble Gustaf and his daughter, Zelda's line, they know where these are hidden.

The boy in green does not speak when addressed, only shaking his head in response.

He has heard vague legends, stories from when he visited in Ordon village about the boy in green [An ancestor, named Link, like him] who had gone on to save Hyrule from a grand invasion. With his shadow at his side, most stories were sure to reiterate. A shadow that was just as great as he was, maybe greater.

Other stories from Ordon came, mostly about its founding. That a boy, also named Link, had moved there with his young bride and children, and settled the area. They said that the lady had come from a land so bizarre that it had once literally turned upside down. Stories about that land were prominent too- As the elders had said that the village of Ordon was built as close as the bridge between the two strange worlds could get. [Some stories of the strange land, to the young man's horror and delight often featured a prominent feature- The moon who had an eternally scowling face.]

The princess, all folded hands and a stare that was quietly, ever judging, gives a nod. She understands. The boy with the fiddle on his back, with bright blue eyes that read courage and clad in green. The desert man is coming with his hoard of monsters. And she has little time to lose. The princess opens her mouth to speak, only to hear the fire of artillery in the distance- or is it thunder.

Rain beats hard against the palace windows, obscuring the outside.

"Link. I must ask you a favor- In the courtyard there is a grave beneath a tree," she holds out her hand to an attendant for a harp, folding her hands over it once it is lain there. "A terrible man is coming to destroy Hyrule and everything in it… You must take what is inside that grave and flee."

Link, not a vocal boy, nods, looking to the harp with a quiet interest. His hands move for his fiddle, setting down sword and shield at his feet to play.

 _He catches on quickly,_ she notes, and gives a nod. "Follow my lead."

Careful, delicate fingers pluck out familiar notes, simple, but they are old, older than Hyrule itself. The boy with long ears listens, and repeats back the song, and they play in a serene harmony, with the pluck of strings and a simple chord.

"This melody that we have learned… This is called Zelda's lullaby. It is an ancient song. Please, play it before the grave. The gods will hear you, and open the way. You do not need to worry about closing it… The gods will close the door behind you."

The boy moves carefully, lifting sword and shield, to their places on his back, and moving to retrieve his fiddle. The princess keeps her hands cupped around the harp, eyes lowering to look at him.

He is so innocent. So willing to do what he can to help. Even if I give him no answers… He will still do as I ask, will he not? He seems so care free now. I hate to ruin this for you.

"The courtyard is out the door to your left… Once you are outside the guards will stand by until you are finished. While I do not wish to rush you-" There is more crashing, like thunder, but there is no lightning, and the clap is hard against earth.

The boy nods, both hands grasping the neck of his fiddle tight.

He moves, following her instructions, not waiting to be dismissed. His bootsteps echo in the hall- a shadow that flickers with lamplight, and the doors open and close for him, a pair of guards disappearing out the door behind him. There is more crashing, lightning chasing the rain across the sky. Thunder comes after, rattling the windows.

The princess folds her arms around the harp. "We have little time."

LINK

The guards behind him close the door, and as he takes in the soaked, vast court-yard, he wonders just why it has to be him. The princess has her guards, people who are willing to lay their lives down for her, why is it him?

It is not that he is bothered-no, he is glad to meet the princess… but he'd only been on his way to Market Town for…

No.

We're doing something for the princess. If we do this, then we can get help for…

The boy takes a deep breath. He'd come to the town on an errand, and it didn't seem like he would be finishing it anytime soon. Or maybe he could finish it and then disappear home, quick enough to pack up everyone and take them into the forest. The forest is a good place to hide, it is deep and grand, and the trees move so often you don't know where up is, or where you left your horse.

He remembers Epona- a horse he'd borrowed from town, and frowns in silence. Hopefully, the poor girl isn't being drenched. They'd said they would take her to the stables, she'll be soaked, and unhappy.

But there's not much he can do in the way of that right now.

The boy tosses his head to keep wet bangs from his face- rain pouring down and drenching him. The guards watch him as he wanders the courtyard, taking it in. There is urgence, yes, but also a sense of wonder. A door that opens with song…

He'd never heard of such a thing before, but he'd played songs for folks and he'd gotten rupees for them, and he'd played songs for parties, and he knew, somewhere in him, that there was magic in these notes.

The old courtyard echoes sadness and a sense of melancholy that this castle knows, and knows very well. It knows each echo of the past, each sound that rings through, be it birds or the cries of men as they fight.

Today, despite the rain and the growing storm, it is serene. There are birds nestled deep in the branches of trees that overarch the ground, and flowers that drink up the rain.

Limestone that glitters in sunlight, bright and shining when it is clear, is now grey and dripping water.

And then there is the tree.

It is grand, tall and with gnarled, old roots that tangle into the earth, and even above it. Branches reach up for the sky- some of them resting on the great eaves of the castle, others just barely gracing the roof. He stops to examine it. The ground beneath it drips with remnants of rain that fall through the leaves and are uncaught by the branches swaying above.

Carefully, the boy begins to pluck at the strings, the tune that the princess showed him. Bright eyes close, and the dripping boy plays wet strings.

No reaction.

He frowns, wondering if his fiddle is out of tune, if he has the song wrong… If…. He isn't the right one to be doing this. Doubt fills him briefly. You are going to help, whatever is in there, it MUST be to help…

He raises the fiddle to his chin, reaching for the bow to sling across those strings when there is shaking. The leaves above rattle in a strange dance, dropping water and drenching him to the bone [more than he was already].

Branches shake and roots begin to unweave and part, coming away- stone slides against stone, earth shifts beneath his feet. There is no light, only silence and rain, and the boy reaches out, laying a hand on the roots that have moved, taking a tentative step forward. There is a great hole where there wasn't one before.

A stair…?

He takes another step, and finds, through the rainy haze and darkness of the now-opened path, that there are stairs. He starts down them one at a time, hands sliding along the wall, tracing old lines of brick and block that are held together by time and the tree above- roots come through the mess of brick, tangling through as he goes down. The immense tree has claimed this place.  
As he descends into the dark hole, the roots of the tree begin to close up, and soon, the stone-on-stone sound begins again, sliding, and he is closed into darkness.  
The air down in the depths is cold and stale, and in the dark Link reaches back and wrings out his cap, which drips as much as the rest of him onto the floor. Shaking, cold fingers part his bangs to the sides, and he peers into the complete blackness.

Nowhere to go but down.

Pure darkness does not give way as he walks, though his eyes adjust to it slowly but surely. Bootsteps echo over the ancient walls, the only sound that echoes other than his breath and dripping from above. Though the walls are old, centuries old, preserved and uncracked, there is something in them that echoes something…

Sadness?

Link closes his eyes, laying a hand on a cool wall and letting a long breath out of him. It is frightening, being in the dark like this. How is he supposed to know where to go?

He isn't sure. Maybe it just goes forever. Maybe it just goes down, down into the earth where it's hot and molten… But...wouldn't there be light from that? Any kind of glow?

There could be anything in this darkness…

But whatever is here… it is in this darkness with him.

And it is just as blind.

That idea makes him smile, almost. Because if it is as blind as he is, maybe it'll stand a less-good chance of fighting… Though mostly his fighting consists of flailing his sword about when he's in a panic… Most people would disagree with that.

Most people would say that Link was excellent with a blade.

 _I haven't even had training._

And it's true. He's barely had any instruction on how to wield a blade, how to use it as an extension of himself, how to parry, how to block… Most of what he knew came from instinct and swinging swords at straw dummies, and spinning in circles.

Neither of those things were something he considered 'formal training'.

Formal training was for knights and others and-

Blue light crosses his vision. The glow is bright, a stark contrast to what he is used to by now. It shines, casting the grooves of the stone in sharp relief. He blinks, and the light is fainter. Moving? That is what it feels like.

His throat closes up, there is something down here with him…

And it has light.

Careful bootsteps lead him to a landing, and that faint blue light illuminates the path ahead, shifting as if the light itself bobbed and weaved, floating at the end of the hall.

Another breath comes to him, the air chilled and stale, and his whole body shakes with cold.

In the faint blue light he can make out the fog from his own breath- cold. It must be that cold here.  
He takes another step, and notes here that the walls are cracking, that the roots that have invaded the structure have made it unstable. It could collapse. His heart sinks into somewhere in his stomach.

Somehow, he wishes that light, whatever it is, would turn itself off.

Sometimes knowing is worse.

 _Don't back down, now, Link. The sooner you're through, the sooner you can head back to the surface. Bring the princess what she asked for, and head home as quickly as you can._

Another breath.

As he ascends, the blue light grows only brighter until he reaches a landing, the tangle of tree-roots and silence petering out into a dead stillness. The light, however, still seems to be moving… a lot faster than he thought. And not forward anymore. It isn't leading him. It's...waiting?

He holds a hand out to steady himself, and draws his blade, keeping the fiddle he has close to his back, eyes locked on the landing below. His feet touch it and before him lies a great arch, leading into a room that is bathed in the blue light.

He takes a step forward, over the line of stones that signify the entrance of the room- and more light flares up, fires in blue, casting the stones in harsh shadows and strong relief. The smell of the flames is unnatural, cold. Ice? Maybe.

The stones in this room, Link finds, are lined with carvings, trees and plants, the sun and moon on the ceiling. It's lovely. And there is a great stone slab in the middle. Like an altar… Or a coffin.

"Who's there?!"

The voice that calls out is small- jittery and bouncing. While the blue fire is bright, the light that this comes from is brighter.

"Who are you, who sent you?!"

The light moves from its hiding spot-behind the great slab, to the end of Link's nose. He blinks, going cross-eyed before shaking his head.

He holds up both hands, indicating that he means no harm, and also to tell the little creature to calm down. Now that he looks closer, it's… a fairy?

It takes effort, but the boy finds his voice- "I was sent… by Princess Zelda. To find something down here-"

"There's nothing here! Go away!"

The boy bristles, hair standing on end. "It's an emergency."

"I don't care. You aren't going to disturb him. Let him rest in peace!"

Rest in peace? This is a tomb?

Bright eyes linger on the little light, and he sidesteps it, approaching the slab with caution. Indeed, worn words in the old tongue are carved onto its surface. But still, there is a name that remains unchanged, as it is sacred, as old as time. Link.

"Hey! Listen to me!" The fairy circles his head, bright light glowing pink momentarily before it stops its dizzying bobbing. "Leave! You can't be here! I told you, let him rest in peace! Can't you see he's suffered enough?!"

Long ears twitch down and Link winces, looking to the side. Suffered enough? He must have had a rough life.. _I don't want to disturb him.. but..._

"But WHY do you need it?"

There is a long silence. Link isn't sure. He's only just got here, just been sent on a mission by his princess.

He doesn't know what is in this tomb, or why he needs it. He just…

He has a gut feeling.

The boy's expression shifts when he remembers Ganondorf, the man sweeping across the nation with an avarice that no one else possesses. An avarice for power. He isn't much for talking, and he isn't sure how to explain it. Words have never been one of Link's finer points.

The light flits in a figure-eight, as though making a decision. "This is the Ocarina of Time! It is a very important, powerful relic! Are you sure you are capable of taking it?!"

The little fairy doesn't know what to think. He looks so much like… right down to the green and the hair-part and… But… At the same time he's not.

The little light settles on top of the sarcophagus, wings flitting like those of a busy dragonfly.

Link shakes his head. He doesn't know, and the slight dip in his shoulders shows that.

The damp boy reaches up, wringing out his cap.

The little fairy sits for a time, wings flattened. It is now that Link has a better chance to look at the sepulchre for himself.

While there are carvings on the wall, yes, there is also a door opposite of him- a door with a circular symbol and a multitude of lines. It is clear that it is ancient, and hasn't been opened in centuries. His eyes wander up, carvings of a man battling a great, scaled beast with a blade in the shape of a helix draw his eye, and another wielding a sword to battle another monster of similar size. They mirror each other, and are looked down upon by a lady in shining gold.

It is the only part of the relief in color.

"Hey! Listen."

The voice chimes, and the little fairy has moved from its seat to the end of the boy's nose again.

"I'll let you take the Ocarina of Time… But you have to promise to bring it back."

The blond boy blinks. There is rumbling around them. The hall behind the open entrance to the sepulchre shakes and dirt falls to the ground, minor amounts, but it threatens to collapse. _There isn't much time before the whole thing caves in_ , Link thinks.

He nods and cups his hands around the fairy, where she settles comfortably for now. He doesn't break promises.

"Good. You've made your promise. Be careful when you take it."

More rumbling. Even this far down…. Is the earth shaking? Is there a fight on the ground above? But regular combat wouldn't do this…  
He turns his attention to the sarcophagus, and places both hands on the lid, pushing as hard as he can.

The lid slides with effort, and clunks to the other side, echoing off the walls. More rumbling, more shaking, and there is a steady stream of stone and dirt in the passage above. Stones start to collapse inward and drop down the steps.

Breath escapes the boy in green as he takes in the sight below him. The skeleton is untouched by the elements, his clothes old tattered remains and armor draped about his skeleton in an approximation of what it might have been in life.

The armor is the color of gold or brass...he can't tell, it's dark… but in the blue firelight it seems golden.

Clutched in those two, skeletal hands lays a shining blue artifact, an ocarina that's not seen the light of day in ages. Link closes a hand over it, lifting it from the poor creature's grasp.

 _Thank you-_ he thinks this, bowing his head. The skeleton does not respond, laying as still as it had since its placement here.

The little light flits, resting on a niche in the wall, though its wings flutter when there is yet more noise- there is snapping and groaning, sounds which are not welcome, not when a person is underground. More stones come loose, and the flow of earth is quick and rushes down to cover what has not been touched in centuries.

Something rocks the very world itself, blasting holes in granite-

Above ground, the very ancient tree atop the grave is on fire, and the entrance is blasted open. Unstable as those rocks closer to the surface are, they begin to buckle and collapse, and Link rushes to the entrance of the room to see dirt and rocks and rubble come crashing down the steps, stopping on different landings. There is the smell of char and smoke from the surface, and dirt floods the passage, collapsing in on a good portion of the stairs before it stops, before the passage that goes unbuckling says that it is enough.

The tunnel is collapsed, and Link no longer has a way out.

The roar of earth echoes in his ears, and rings in the hall. How is...how is he..? The boy takes a breath, swirls of dust that billow down lay at his boots. The impact had already sent a rush of wind at him, a roar that now swirled in his ears. The little blue light flits its wings, but does not move.

Link's blood runs cold. How does he get out now.


	2. The Demon King Enters

2

GANONDORF

"Where is she."

His voice rumbles across the destroyed halls of the castle.

The immense figure says this without it truly being a question. Had he expected Her Highness to...simply give herself up? No. He expected a fight.

His spies have no answers, the two guards that had defected to his side in recent days, scouts that had returned with exaggerated voices of the distance between Ganondorf's army and Castletown.

They'd told him about the boy.

He knew the stories, stories passed down from old memories and voices that whisper to him through the ages. A fell wind that blows. And it blows hot and dry now across the land of Hyrule.

The storm has let up finally, rain that had seeped into the ground and buried the world with water and turned all earth to mud.

But the princess is not all that matters.

The boy in green had been sent to fetch something.

The guards were not paying close enough attention, those that were not defectors [and executed on the spot for their sealed lips] spoke naught a word. They would not speak again for their insolence.

Ganondorf had respect for men who did not let loose their tongues- those defectors were less in his eyes. They were traitors to their princess and people, selling themselves to keep their lives. Once they'd lived out their use, they'd join the others in their ranks. He would send them all to the goddesses with spears lodged firmly between both legs.

"And the boy. The one in green."

His stern countenance does not shift. Instead he lifts his head to look down at them, yellow eyes locked on their faces. He would not tolerate misgiven information, or 'I don't know's from these soldiers. Their lives were already forfeit. Surely they knew more than to say little on a matter that was this great of importance.

"We are certain that he did not survive the blast. The catacombs beneath the courtyard are old and have not been maintained in more than a century."

The soldier clicks his heels, shielding his eyes as he looks up.

"So I see. And you are for certain?"

"Yes."

The Gerudo king folds both arms behind his back, and starts away in stride. "Do you know that the goddess' dog is not easy to put down? No mere explosion or cave in will keep him from his duty."

The soldier grows pallid, face drawing like ash under his helm.

"...But he is just a boy, sir."

"Yes. But it is ALWAYS just a _boy._ "

The word is heavily emphasized, and his hawk's eyes lock on the soldier beneath him. The Gerudo King will not tolerate anyone underestimating that child.

"Sir…. I…"

"You do not understand."

The man with devil's eyes scans the near-vacant throne room. Moblins can be seen through those fogged, rain-tinted windows, and he watches them with a distant thought. They are moving chests of rupees, and emptying them into a pile. It seems we've stumbled upon a treasure grove.

The great man strides up toward the throne, old and scarred with ages of war. Ages of fighting for a land that was given to them. A land that the king did not believe they deserved. No. It was HIS. His divine right, given to him by the goddesses. A right passed down by others of his name, of his stature. He, a king of thieves, will take what is rightfully his. Because all is rightfully his.

"No. None of you ever _do_ understand."

He turns, great cloak sweeping behind him. He draws the face mask down, revealing his scowl in full.

If it is at all possible, the cloak makes the man only seem MORE immense than he already is. If he were not so frightening it would be cartoonish.

"The goddesses send their dog when no other man has the spine to bend his back and fight. And he is hardly ever a man. He is always. Always. A boy."

The Gerudo King seats himself on the throne, a throne that he has always claimed as his. "He _is_ just a boy. But that is why they choose him, isn't it? Because children are innocent. They fight for what they believe is good."

His mouth moves from that firm, almost angry line, to a long scowl, lips chapped from dry-desert heat. Weathered palms grasp the edge of a throne he had rightly won, some form of satisfaction in his being.

"Boys are small, they slip through a large man's grasp like water. And monsters have a hard time keeping their vision on such a lithe form. He is always just a boy, but it is a boy they need."

Golden eyes linger on that soldier, unamused now. He has his throne, his seat at Zelda's table [though he is missing the guest of honor.]

There is answering silence, no one challenges the might of a man who carries his full weight with pride. And in particular, they do not challenge this great king of demons. That is a challenge for gods and their chosen, a task not for mortal men.

The Gerudo King makes himself comfortable on the throne, cupping his chin in one hand while he watches those that mill about the throne room, sweeping it of debris, removing corpses…

"Sire."

Ganondorf lifts his head. "You may approach."

He keeps his words brief, pulling himself up tall. He is comfortable in this throne, he knows that it is his. Others might do well to know this too. A guard stops in front of him, giving a salute.

"We have begun to sift through the wreckage. There is no sign of the boy or her highness."

This news is both welcome and unwelcome. No sign of he boy. He could have been killed by the cave in. We cannot know for certain."

The Gerudo King's eyebrows shoot up, eyes staring through the defected soldier's visor, burning a hole through him. The man hesitates. "There is no sign of Princess Zelda. No horses are missing from the stables."

"So she fled on foot, or she is somewhere on grounds."

He pulls himself upright. "Turn every stone in this palace over. Leave no place untouched."

"Yes sire. However, there is good news."

The Gerudo King's expression does not shift, but his face reads impatience. Speak, spit it out, we do not have time to dally. "We have found the final piece."

There is no change in the man, no visible glee or amusement in his face. There is no relief, there is nothing but a cold understanding. "Bring it to me."

The great man settles once again on his claimed throne, eyes wandering the hall as he waits. The soldier has vanished into the background, to retrieve that which they had sought since the beginning of his campaign. It had been difficult to track down all of its pieces, as there were none alive who knew its origins, nor its fate. He'd communed with he who had created him as he was now, an instinct, a voice, or an apparition [he knew not which it was, he had never seen him fully, but heard his voice, and some days he could not even claim that.] that had guided him through determined meditation.

And it had guided him to a blade of the blackest steel, forged in hell. Rather, that is what he had learned. But it was also in pieces. It would take a master sword-smith to repair it, to bring it back to a whole, strong form.

The demon king stands as something large and heavy is deposited into his hands, wrapped in a red cloth. It had been shattered to keep it from reforming, or from its pieces coming together to summon that which it served.

Great hands unfold the cloth. There is no reverence in this action, after all, all that is belongs to Him, why should this not receive the same treatment?

Unfolded in his hands comes the hilt of a grand and heavy sword, black and shining, the pointed wings on the hilt gleaming. It is old, but untarnished. Shattered, but still, whole. There is a life that beats within it.

He does not feel the need to announce what comes next, discerning eyes moving across the hilt. "Shall we search for a smith?"

The great man does not dignify this question with an answer. He does not feel it requires one. He, instead, considers his words. "No. Not now. We must make a most grievous announcement."

They had all seen the town. It was devastated, of course, but empty. The people will start to draw out of their hiding places, most of them already found. They hold out for a hero, hiding in their holes.

"The boy in green is dead."

If he is not, then he will show himself. If he is, then this statement is not false, and the people cannot call him a liar. Of course, it does not matter what they call him, HE rules their land now. It is he that determines truth from lies and the law from a crime.

The soldiers glance between one another, and give nods. "Aye, sir. When do we deliver this news?"

"...Soon. Perhaps not today."

The sky outside has not cleared, but it is dark. There will be no one to hear his declaration. Or if they hear, no one will respond. There will be frightened sounds, yes, he is sure. Tears too, lost hope… but it is no fun when your quarry is hiding their panic behind closed doors to the dark.

"Before then, however… Lay out the pieces. We must be certain that they are all here."

He gestures to a side table, again taking his seat on his new throne.

LINK

 _How do I move forward?_

The boy, ocarina clutched in both hands, is faced with a dilemma. He'll run out of air eventually, there aren't exactly vents between this place and the upper world, it's a tomb, not a room meant for the living. There is that carving in front of him, and the little blue light that has gone quiet. Eventually, the tiny creature moves, illuminating the room where firelight does not touch. "Look!"

She flits around ancient text that seems to line the walls, an endless pattern of words in repetition.

Link crouches to the section, it's old, and he looks at the little light quizzically, how am I supposed to read that? I'm not educated in old Hylian.

"Open the door of time for a way forward."

The little fairy was always good at reading a confused expression, so there was no doubt that she would pick up on Link's inability to grasp an old tongue. Centuries had passed since the tomb was built, it was old when the Hero of Twilight was young, and every hero since.

The light then flits to the carving opposite the caved in entrance, hovering in front of the great stone wall. She seems to be considering...something?

Link isn't sure what, or how he's supposed to open the door. Door of Time? Will that get him out? Or is it just gonna send him somewhere? Maybe he can go back in time and stop himself from coming down here?

"Play this on your ocarina- Wait, DO you know how to play an ocarina?"

The boy much preferred his fiddle to other instruments- it was important to him, and also, he liked how it'd sounded. But he'd used many different instruments in his life. The ocarina, common for forest folk like himself, was one of them. He'd never lain eyes on a harp before he'd met the princess and that golden instrument. But the ocarina, that is what they taught you first if you wanted to learn music, basics, notes, octaves. He gives a nod, standing straight and holding the instrument to his lips. He touches notes briefly, reacquainting himself with an instrument he had not touched in ages. The instrument itself was old, and held by a dead man no less than ten minutes ago.

The first note comes out a touch awkward, the second less so. By the fourth and fifth, he was playing smoothly, and removes the instrument from his lips, giving the fairy another nod. I can play.

"...Okay, good."

She hovers there in silence, before taking in a deep breath. "Follow me."

The little light bounces in the air, tones echoing off the walls and being swallowed up by the earth behind them. The tune played is old, one used to open the Temple of Time ages ago, and again to call to that selfsame goddess in a time of great need.

Sounds are something Link is accustomed to mimicking sounds and notes, playing by ear rather than from sheet music. Forest people, though not the poorest people in Hyrule, did most of their telling through words or song, and passed history in an auditory note. Sure, there were books, some things you couldn't learn through word of mouth or listening to the elders speak, but music and history…

The boy mimics the tones, each note ringing with an echo that, unlike the fairy's tones, is not swallowed up by the earth. They seem to echo throughout the earth itself, sending sound to its core and echoing back ever stronger. There is serenity in those notes.

Something that soothes the soul.

The endlessly repeated words begin to light up, bright and silvery, a spiral of writing across all carvings, and the ceiling above emits a light that is golden. Link closes his eyes, drawing the ocarina away from his mouth. It's too bright.

Light flickers in lines and fills the room before it converges on the great carving opposite the teenager- it begins to splinter and crack, lights following first the carving, and then cracking into the stone. The sound of splintering stone echoes louder than the notes- and the boy opens his eyes, realising that the stone is about to explode. The minute he is ducked behind the opened sarcophagus is the minute the great mural ruptures, sending shrapnel and stone skittering across the near-pristine floor. The pale blue light has hidden itself, moving from her hiding spot- a niche in the wall- She flits her way over to the boy, fluttering just above his head. "You can go forward now."

Shaking hands slowly uncover his head and he peeks over the edge of the stone coffin. Beyond the wall is now a long, dark hallway. The boy takes his stand, and starts forward, placing the ocarina in his pack. The fairy accompanies him to the edge of the room and stops, "I cannot go with you. You have to go forward by yourself."

Link takes a moment to look forward. Has no light, has no way of seeing in the dark, and in that direction, there could be anything.

"...Thank you."

Speaking these words takes some effort- not because he is not grateful to the little light. Speaking is difficult enough…

She seems to settle upon the ledge of the coffin, wings lowering and light dimming.

"Good luck, hero."


End file.
